Selfish or Self-help?

As often happens, my last remaining vestige of my depression crutches, my therapist, made me feel a lot better about something that's been bugging me.  I was very upset that I was unable to "remember" what my body felt like (from the inside) in the area of my surgery, before the surgery. Probably because I feel the weight of the implants so keenly, I thought I ought to remember the lack of weight, or something - anything - about how I was before.  I know my skin had feeling, at the very least, but I can't remember it.  (As I said, I was really upset.)  I compared it to being unable to remember the sound of a departed loved one's voice, or touch.  She pointed out that I probably never thought about it much in the many years before the surgery, and she's right to a point.  I remember what nursing the boys felt like, and I remember other things, but, whether I'm unconsciously (sub-consciously?) protecting myself or not, I don't seem to remember anything else.  And, since I wasn't in the habit of taking pictures of myself topless, the fact that my brain also refuses to remember what I looked like, well, it's really, really frustrating sometimes.

So why has it taken almost a full year to worry about this now?  I think I was (am?) actually in some form of shock, taking care of things as they needed to be taken care of, but not fully realizing anything about my loss that could stop me from functioning altogether.  And I'll bet it's common, too.  After all, I know I'm not the first one to be in this situation, and I certainly (and unfortunately) am not the last.

I also was distressed that I seem to have turned more inward over this past year, and worried that this perceived "selfishness" had somehow been harmful.  I wonder, did it hurt my family and friends?  Did it cause my work to suffer?  As it turns out, what I term selfishness probably saved my sanity (if indeed I am still sane.)  I had to turn inward.  I had to focus on myself, whether it was by taking care of my own drains (even though many people offered to help) or by making sure I ate and drank what I liked, or by forcing myself to do what the doctor(s) said, even though I could have just stayed in my chair and been waited on.  I tried to take every opportunity to get better, at least physically.  I think I had no energy to work on my psychological recovery, so that got put on hold for a long time.

My work did suffer a bit, in my estimation, but only in that I felt myself less in control - of my paperwork, of my organizational tasks, of little things.  As for my family and friends, they just let me be and although I know it went directly against their urge to help, it was a very great gift. 

Now, two days away from the day I started trying to figure out how to heal not just my physical parts but my "whole," I worry that too much introspection will set me back.  On the other hand, I have to believe there is still work to be done there, and I hope I can tell the difference between self-care and self-pity along the way.